Fortress Pip Ash was a marshy pile of mud that rose out of the murky waters of the Delaware River near the approach to Philadelphia. Originally holding a small village colonized by the Swedish, the colony of New Jersey had built a small fortress and town on the island, which was used to justify its claim to half of the Delaware Bay when it applied for statehood in 1778. The newly minted supreme court upheld New Jersey's claim to the waterway due to the presence of Fortress Pip ash. Two hundred years later the island was home to nearly eight thousand residents living in tightly packed row houses on tight historic cobbled streets. The island was mostly self-sufficient, though most residents had a car in the parking garage near the ferry for use off the island. Most people in Pip Ash made their living either serving the tourist industry or working as fishermen. There was also a small but growing industry of technicians working on large wind farms that dominated the Delaware Bay. The original fortress is still the center of town, surrounded by a moat and holding the cities offices, police department, and other important facilities. A ceremonial unit of soldiers remains on the island mostly for recruiting duty, residing in the fortress. 

Dean Paul was walking home from school alone. While it was hot on paper, the location of Pip Ash meant that a cool breeze always whipped by the narrow streets and alleyways of the city. Dean sighed as he walked along the cobbled streets, passing by the other students who were with their friends. He figured that he would have been able to overcome his social anxiety after high school, though now that he was in college, he was even more isolated. There was just something off about him, and he knew it. He struggled to make friends of any kind, and the people he usually did get close to typically would stop talking to him after a while. He planned on getting his degree in mechanical engineering so that he could work at the wind farm, though honestly the struggles of school and lack of stability were taking its toll on Dean's GPA. 

He wasn't the most unattractive person to ever cross Pea Patch, but he wasn't exactly stunning either. His hair was somewhat receding already despite being just 24 years old. He wasn't obese, but certainly he had a bit of a gut on him and could stand to work out more often. No, it was his mannerisms more than his looks that doomed Dean to a life of loneliness. Having no idea how to talk to people after being neglected by his own family, his early life consisted of repeated social blunders that ended up with the whole town thinking him to be some kind of freak. Deep down inside, Dean himself felt he was a freak. As early as high school he had started learning about his own sexuality. Some people were into boobs, some ass, Dean was into crushing, brutal and gory crushing of other humans shrunk to tiny size. Of course, such a thing was impossible, but regardless Dean thought himself as a monster, and never dared tell anyone of his obsession. Dean's social frustration and anxiety were made even worse because there was simply no outlet for him, at best there were some basic Youtube videos that would probably be deleted as quickly as they popped up or a handful of stories on a website that were updated infrequently. 

Dean continued towards the docks, it was no use going home at this time of day, he hated seeing his stepfather and his mother would be too busy drinking to talk to him. Dean would do what he always did to pass the time, magnet fishing. There were a large number of wrecks in the bay, some dating as far back as the second world war. Dean made short pocket change by taking his boat out into the water and dragging a heavy magnet along the mud for anything of value. The docks weren't too busy as most of the boats had gone out for the day and wouldn't be back until the late evening, giving Dean the chance to sail off into safer waters away from the unwieldy fishing boats. 

A small aluminum bodied dinghy bobbed in the water waiting for Dean to get in. He tossed in his backpack, which had a small snorkeling kit and flippers. Undoing the line holding the boat to shore, Dean gave the cord on the engine a quick tug. The motor sputtered shortly before humming to life, smoke billowing out of the overtaxed and ancient engine as Dean pulled out of the harbor into relatively open water about a hundred meters from shore, not far from where the old military dock on the rear of the fortress used to be. This was his spot, and almost everyone in town knew it. There wasn't a whole lot to be found here and the authorities never gave him any trouble anyway as long as he steered clear of the cables that lined the bottom of the bay. While he had always hoped that he would find something interesting like a helmet or perhaps even a rocket, typically the days catch would consist of a few rusted bolts or a small tin if he was lucky. 

A large steel cased magnet was tossed overboard with a thick chain attached. The magnet rested on a small sled that make it easier for Dean to drag it around. The chain unwrapped a few feet before striking the muddy bottom, Dean left a few feet of slack so that it would trail well behind him as he pulled forward slowly with the motor. He paired his phone with a small speaker he brought onboard, playing a podcast to pass the time as he lazily patrolled with his weighted magnet in tow, careful to not veer too far into the shipping lane, which was very deep. While he used to check on the magnet nearly every hour, Dean knew better than that now. If he found anything of value it would stick to the magnet, besides it was heavy and pulling it back up was exhausting. As the sun started to set inland behind him, Dean prepared to pull up his chain and head back to the docks. Before he could do so, however, the chain pulled taut and then tugged at the boat, nearly throwing Dean over the bow into the water. Straightening his glasses, Dean walked over to the chain and gave it a tug, though it remained obviously stuck on something heavy. Dean was close to the drop-off, losing the weight entirely would have been a disaster though at least it looks like whatever it is caught on is near the surface. Excited for his first real catch in nearly three years of magnet fishing, Dean unbuttoned his tan shirt and tossed his hat to the floor of the boat. While not terribly familiar with snorkeling, Dean felt prepared enough with the short class he watched online a year ago and threw on his mask and tube. Before jumping over, Dean remembered to stretch the headlight band over his head, it would be dark down there. 

The water was cold... extremely cold. Despite being nearly June, the water of the Delaware was still very cold. The chill nearly took the breath out of Deans mouth as he threw himself into the water, careful not to dive in extremely fast so as to not get stuck in the mud. Flipping on his light, Dean entered the darkness, following the chain down at least twelve feet. Down here he could still see the light above somewhat, but silt and mud had made the water in front of him very dark, the light penetrating like a sword into the darkness and yet still only illuminating about an arm's length away from his face. Through the brownish water the beam of light on Dean's head cut a shaft of visibility down the chain where it ended at the magnet sled. The sled rested on a piece of flat metal, extending into the mud. Already hurting for air but interested, Dean went just a little deeper, when he saw that the sled was caught on what appeared to be the handle to a door. Feeling the slimy and algae covered metal, Dean let go of the chain and swam towards the edge of the metal, finding that it was right at the edge of the drop off into deeper waters. Not wanting to lose more air, Dean started swimming to the surface, reaching the top and gasping. 

Taking a moment to get his breath, Dean once again plunged under the surface, this time swimming straight towards the door to get a closer look at it. Through the darkness the door had appeared so fast that he nearly swam into it, he started scratching at the mud and debris on it, which clouded the area even more. Still, shining his light directly on the handle, he could clearly make out "US ARMY". Already starting to burn for air, Dean tugged at the handle, the heavy door lurching open revealing a pitch-black pit that ran deeper into the depths of the channel. Looking inside before the silt clouded it, Dean could see that this was an extended shipping container, which ran at least another forty feet. Currently it was half buried in the mud, crushed on the one side, and leaning at a nearly 50-degree angle on the edge of a cliff that ran into the middle channel of the bay. The interior looked mostly empty, but in the middle of the container held by chains was what appeared to be a single crate. Dean could wait no longer, and pushed off the metal, swimming for the surface for air. Breaching the water, Dean gasped for air and grabbed the nearby chain extending to his tiny boat, his head panged with pain as he deprived himself of oxygen. 

Though the sun had nearly set, and clouds were rolling in, Dean just couldn't wait for his prize to be washed away in some current or be claimed by someone else. He stood onboard his boat, which now rocked harder as the wind picked up with the incoming clouds. Dean jumped and dived feet first into the water, piercing it like a bullet where he figured the container would be. Thankfully not just lawn-darting himself into the muddy bottom, Dean passed right through the open door, a blanket of silt and mud surrounding him as he entered and spreading out to fill the room. Now in the container, Dean could only see directly in front of him, the minimal light from the sun no longer present. He looked for the box but instead just saw more of the silty darkness that had engulfed him earlier. He tried to get his bearings, but up was down and down was up. Dean twisted and turned as he felt the oxygen in his lungs deplete. He thrashed until he found a chain, one that was holding the box in the center of the container. He tugged on it, his chest swelling as he demanded air. Instead of heading back up, Dean pulled himself towards the crate and gave it a tug, the thing cracking open with ease after being underwater for who knows how long. Through the encompassing darkness Dean could see a metallic object slip out of the box towards the bottom of the container. Panicking, Dean rushed towards it to grab it, himself getting caught on the chain as he did so. He did manage to get his hands on the metal, though with his trashing he bumped his head into the crate. 

The pain of hitting his head was nothing compared to the panic of seeing the flashlight slip off its band towards the bottom of the container. Dean rushed forward again, ignoring the pain in his lungs, it was only a few feet deeper right? He lunged forward, kicking up more silt as the beam of light faded. Now Dean was left alone in the dark, the distant light of his headband shutting off entirely as it went beyond its rated depth. Still holding the metallic object, Dean started to swim towards the surface, his lungs nearly bursting as he had spent almost a full minute underwater. Instead, Dean smacked headfirst into the side of the container, though in his confused state he didn't recognize that he wasn't going up. In a panic and getting more and more confused, Dean thrashed around in the cloudy darkness of the container pressing against the walls. Dean swam along the wall in front of him, reaching what he thought must be the door of the container, only for a deeper kind of darkness to close in on him as he reached for the sky. 

Dean’s head was throbbing, it felt like he was waking up after a long night of drinking, not that he drank much to be too familiar with a hangover. As he opened his eyes he saw that he was in a hospital room, the sterile white walls accentuated by a blue line painted over the midsection of the wall. Out the window he could see the harbor, a few boats bringing in their daily catch of scallops and White Perch. This was Charles L'Enfant Hospital, a small building near the port used to provide basic medical care to the islanders as well as holding more serious patients while waiting to be transported to the mainland. The room Dean was in was a small holding room, likely left open due to the lack of any serious cases, otherwise he’d surely be downstairs in the main ward.

Dean was staring out at the port as he heard the door open and close behind him. He turned to see Chris Gantry. He stood fairly tall, at nearly 6’2. He was the complete opposite of Dean, both charming and athletic; he had a very large friend group. The two weren’t exactly friends, though Chris at least knew Dean by name.

“That was pretty close you know, you shouldn’t go diving into crates and confined places like that, you could have been killed.”

Dean just stared back, he didn’t care much to be lectured right now, even if he had just saved his life. He tried to shut him up with an insincere “Yeah, I know.” 

“I was out on the water too, just coming back in from the mainland when I saw you head into the water.” 

Chris approached, something wrapped in cloth in his hands.

“I didn’t think anything of it until the first minute had gone by. I knew you were never a very good swimmer, so I realized that you were in trouble and jumped in after you. I’m sure everyone on the ferry thought I was crazy” 

Chris gave an awkward laugh, Dean returned it with a forced smile.

“Anyway, I managed to hold onto this, it was in your hand when I found you. I guess it’s yours, no idea what it could be though.”

Chris opened the bundle to show a metal sphere, the same object that Dean had reached for underwater. It was a rusty ball of sorts, though the original metal could still be seen underneath. 

Chris twisted it a bit, it did appear to move slightly

“Hmm, I guess it opens?”

As he gave it another hard twist a thick POP emanated from the sphere, which Chris dropped as a small stream of blood left his hand. 

“Ah, it poked me, shit .I don’t want to have to deal with a tetanus shot rig-” Chris’s words slurred and then he keeled over. Before Dean could call for help, he vanished.
 

How could this be? Dean had looked blankly at the sphere. Was he seeing things? Did he imagine Chris being in the room? Dean leaned in to grab the sphere, hanging out of the bed and supporting himself with one arm as the other reached out to grab the ball. Then he saw it, he saw something small moving near the sphere. A bug? Dean leaned in closer and to his horror he saw him, Chris. He couldn’t be much larger than a millimeter in height, the size of most ants. 

Dean just stared at the now diminutive Chris in front of him. He just saved him, sure, but now he was the size of an ant in front of him. While he had kept this from almost everyone that he knew, he had a size kink. He frequently trawled the internet for whatever size related material he could find. Usually it was just some corny video of a woman in her underwear stepping on some poorly green screened men. They never quite scratched the itch, the horror and scale of it all that he imagined. Some videos got close, but they never could capture exactly what Dean craved. Now in front of him he had what he wanted, but what sort of monster would he be if he used Chris for his own gain. He had just saved him after all. 

Before Dean could think much more on it, the door opened again. 

“Hey! I’m sorry I’m so late, I ran straight over as soon as I heard about what happened.” 

It was Victoria, Dean’s only real friend. Their relationship was hard to describe. She claimed to have seen him as a friend, but Dean was convinced that he was more or less just in her life because she felt bad for him rather than out of any desire to truly be friends. She was a medical student living on the mainland, though she visited often and they both went to college together. They texted often, though sometimes Dean wished that they could hang out or be closer. She was perhaps the only person in his life that he was really open with.

Victoria was average in height, perhaps 5’6. She had shoulder length brown hair that she typically kept in a bun, though today she left it loose. She wore a set of metal framed glasses that covered her hazel eyes that seemed to glow with a light orange-brown. She was from Colombia, but moved to the US when she was young. Her olive skin was well taken care of and was clear of any blemishes. Today she wore a red dress with a denim jacket. She had on a pair of leather flip flops that were clearly well worn. Dean avoided staring. 

“Hey don’t worry about that, I’ll get it for you.” Victoria walked over to the sphere, grabbing it and quickly placing it on the end table before Dean could stop her. She looked down at the floor instinctively as she turned around. Her feet landed near, but not on Chris. He watched as he appeared to be jumping up and down, waving for help. Above him, Victoria was none the wiser as her foot approached the tiny speck. 

Down below, Chris was living a nightmare. First he blacked out, whatever ball it was the he had picked up poked him and left a small cut on his hand. He awoke shortly after to find that he was tiny, like really tiny. He looked up to see Dean staring at him, and while he screamed for help, he got no response. Either he couldn’t hear him or he was being ignored. Maybe Dean was in just as much shock? Whatever the case, he needed to be rescued and turned back to normal. His thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. He couldn’t see who it was from his position as he was on the floor on the opposite side of the bed as the door. 

“Hey! I’m sorry I’m so late, I ran straight over as soon as I heard about what happened.” 

He recognized that voice. He couldn’t ponder it though, as his mind and heart was racing. Why wasn’t Dean picking him up? He was getting back into bed actually, but still keeping his eyes locked on him. 

boom

Boom

BOOM

The steps of the giant approaching him sounded like distant explosions getting closer and closer. As the colossus crossed over to his side of the room he could make out her details. Though she was now the size of the tallest skyscrapers from his perspective, he could still make out Victoria anywhere. They shared a few classes together and she sometimes helped him with biology homework. He waved his arms and jumped.

“Hey, I’m down here. Victoria!!”

But she couldn’t hear him. Her foot slammed down next to him, the meaty flesh settling on the leather flip flop as she stood now directly over him. Chris was in a panic, the impact dropping him to the ground as she started crouching to pick up the sphere. He stared up as her body and dress lowered. He had a view right to her underwear but he was anything but pervy right now, given the circumstances. It appeared as if the sky itself was falling on him, though it stopped short of crushing him as she fully crouched to grab the sphere. Her heels raised off the flip flops as she did so and he could see her soles rising into the air. The light scent of her feet wafted over him. 

“Ah, please Victoria, please!” He begged to an uncaring mass of flesh and bone. As quickly as she lowered herself, she raised back into the air, leaving Chris between her ginormous feet. 

Dean had to break himself out of his trance, he couldn’t be seen just staring at Victoria’s feet. She turned around after placing the sphere on the table, facing him. 

“I’m sure you’re tired, I just wanted to check in on you. The doctor said you were out for a while, I do hope that everything will be alright” 

Dean made idle small talk with Victoria, though he was really giving most of his thought to the ant between her feet. He occasionally glanced down, trying not to make it obvious. He knew that she had caught him looking more than a few times just now, but perhaps she’d just attribute it to him being a little loopy from being out for so long.

Back on the floor, Chris could barely hear the giants. Their loud and booming voices were so distorted that it just sounded more like thunder to him than anything else. He needed to get Victoria’s attention, Dean must have been too out of it to notice him. She stood above him, occasionally shuffling her feet, each minor movement sent him back on his knees. The worst came as one of her feet slid out of the flip flop. Chris watched as the shaking continued, keeping him on the ground and immobile. Her foot slammed around him repeatedly as she tapped her foot, slid it back and forth, and moved it around him. His luck finally ran out as he saw her tanned sole appear over him, replacing the sky as the wrinkled flesh collapsed on him.

“Wai-”

Chris started to yell as the mass of flesh descended on him. 

BOOM

He was caught under the ball of her foot. The hot flesh compressing him like an elephant on a grape. The air left his body and his lungs were crushed quickly. Victoria probably felt something, it was a smooth tiled floor, but she probably just thought he was some dirt or lint on the floor and gave him no thought as she continued her conversation with Dean. As he was seeing stars the weight let off him. He painfully filled his lungs up, though the air now stunk of her feet, the overwhelming smell of her sweat filling his nostrils. He gave a muffled cry, the foot raised slightly off the ground but not enough for him to move away. It suddenly lowered with more force again, snapping his leg and a few rips as it compressed him. The gigantic foot started sweeping back and forth, grinding him into the floor like a cigarette bud, leaving streaks of blood as the dust on the floor dug into his flesh like a wall of daggers.

Dean wasn’t responding anymore, instead just focused on her foot and giving half hearted responses. Victoria must have noticed, because she grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Hey, I can tell you’re really out of it right now, I’ll give you some time to rest and instead I’ll stop by later okay?”

Dean nodded as she leaned in to give him a hug. She leaned in her foot pressed against the floor hard, smashing poor Chris under the ball of her foot once again. His muffled screams were drowned out by the cracking and crunching of his bones. The gigantic foot pulverized him, compressing him into the floor with the force of a power hammer. As she let go of Dean, Victoria slipped her sandals back on. She didn’t realize that Chris was still alive, if only just barely. He gave a pained and weak whine as he saw the floor get farther away before the destination of her flip flop appeared and got closer and closer. Her foot settled into the worn leather, trapping Chris and dooming him to a horrid fate. Victoria began walking to the door, each step reducing Chris more and more as he sank into the dirty insole of the flip flop. While he was still alive, it didn’t matter, she wouldn’t be able to notice some tiny bug being mashed into grime in her shoe. 

Victoria left hoping that Dean would recover soon. Yes it was quite weird that he stared at her foot for a bit, but she figured that he must have just been a little out of it. She knew that he was attracted to her though honestly she had no interest in him at all beyond just being a friend at arms length away. 

Dean was speechless, he just saw his literal savior get mauled and crushed under Victoria, a woman that he had a crush on himself. He just sat there and watched a man be brutally killed and didn’t do anything to stop it. He wasn’t a murderer though, right? I mean he did nothing but what was he supposed to do? One thing was certain though, what he just saw excited him. He was turned on, in fact he wished that he was the one tiny being crushed by Victoria right now. Where Chris once stood was now just a small amount of blood, his body likely being pulverized into an unrecognizable paste right now.

Dean looked over at the sphere, if whatever was in it could shrink people, he’d finally be able to live out his fantasy, whatever the costs. 

It had been nearly a month since Chris's disappearance. Dean had been given a basic interview but was quickly passed over as he was still recovering in his hospital bed. Foul play was ruled out, as no body had been recovered and he appeared to have left with his wallet and identification. Current thoughts are that he may have drowned while searching for salvage in the water outside of town. A U.S. Army dive team recovered the container, which was considered a hazard to navigation. A memorial service was held for Chris, which Dean attended along with many of the island's inhabitants.

The service was held on the mainland in nearby Delaware City, as there was no cemetery space on the island beyond some small mausoleums hidden away in underground spaces for the rich. Dean attended, of course—Chris had saved him, after all. Chris’s family gave him a look of disappointment as they saw him walking in, and Dean was sure they probably blamed him for their son's disappearance. Whatever the case, they were too overcome with grief to confront him. Dean watched as the family sobbed over an empty coffin. Of course, Dean felt conflicted; he was no monster and hadn’t killed Chris on purpose. Still, he hadn’t exactly helped him as Victoria had crushed him into a pulp. He hadn’t told anyone about the sphere either. It was too valuable and too important to him. How else could he ever live out his fantasy without it? Whatever conflict Dean had internally about the sphere melted away as he saw Victoria kneel at the coffin and offer a short prayer. As she kneeled, her heel popped out of her dress shoe briefly, and Dean wondered how long Chris had survived underfoot, or if his remains were still smeared into the grime of her insole. Dean shuffled to hide his arousal while thinking about the death of the man whose funeral he was attending. Ashamed, Dean left early, and as he was walking towards the door of the funeral house, he noticed a taller Indian woman approaching. Her name was Detective Anwar, and she stood out with her stern look and rectangular glasses that added an edge to her sharp gaze. Her hair, a short bob, was left somewhat unkempt, giving her an air of someone who prioritized work over appearances. She wore a black suit with a badge clearly displayed, indicating her official business. He froze briefly, wondering why she bothered to attend his funeral. Was she continuing an investigation in a case that was already cold? Guilt crossed his mind as he quickly walked towards his car and set out back towards the island ferry. Dean cursed himself as he sped home. There were no cameras in the hospital, right? What if Victoria found Chris’s remains stuck to her foot? It wasn’t his fault that Chris had shrunk; he basically killed himself.

Dean couldn’t continue on in Pip Ash, not until he had some kind of rhythm or plan down. No, he’d fly to some far off country and shrink people there. After three months of meticulously crafting an online persona, Dean had convinced an Indonesian woman named Anisa that he was deeply in love with her. She, with her bubbly personality and round, glasses-framed face, had no reason to suspect the darkness hiding behind Dean's thoughtful messages and sweet nothings. Her medium-length hair and laughter-filled video chats had made it easy for Dean to play the part of a smitten lover. Dean packed his bags under the guise of a vacation, slipping the sphere alongside his clothes and a new acquisition—a small camera disguised as a pen, intended to document his upcoming misdeeds. His heart raced with both excitement and a twinge of fear as he boarded the plane to Indonesia, knowing that there would be no turning back once he set his plan into motion.

Upon arrival, Anisa greeted him with a warmth that felt alien to Dean’s true intentions. Her home, shared with two roommates, would be the stage for his dark experiment. Anisa introduced Dean to Dewi and Rini. Dewi, a conservative Muslim woman, adjusted her hijab to cover her hair as Dean entered, her small nose and smooth face maintaining a stern expression that contrasted sharply with Anisa's cheerful demeanor. She clearly wasn’t a fan of having Dean in  the house. Rini, the self-neglected nerd, barely looked up from her computer as Dean walked in, her filthy shoes left carelessly by the door—a detail Dean noted with a perverse interest as Anisa apologized for the smell. Dean imagined himself being crushed into the filthy insole like a bug. 

Lunch was mostly uneventful, save for Anisa mentioning that she thought she saw her stalker outside. She explained that her ex, a man from Australia named Richie, came around fairly often. This was the opportunity that Dean was waiting for, and Dean quickly offered to deal with Richie by telling him firmly to leave. Of course Anisa bought it immediately, the charming offer winning her over as her roommates cringed with embarrassment. 

It wasn’t particularly hard to find Richie, the man was standing across the street with a bunch of flowers in his hand. Dean approached Richie with a calmness that belied his racing pulse. The sphere, hidden in his pocket, felt heavier with each step. With a swift motion, unseen by Richie, Dean quickly jabbed the sphere towards the stalker, shrinking him to a minuscule size in seconds as the small needle sprung out and punctured his neck. Scooping up the tiny man, Dean concealed him in his pocket, returning inside with a fabricated story of sending Richie away, discouraged. Later that night, Dean set the stage for his gruesome spectacle. He placed Richie on the floor of the hallway. Positioning the pen camera to face the impending scene, he ensured it was set to record, capturing every moment of what was to come. The tiny camera, its lens barely noticeable, was poised to broadcast Richie's fate to a dark corner of the internet, where people like Dean could watch their fantasies play out unimpeded. 

Waking up in a cold sweat, Richie looked around and saw an utterly alien landscape. Before him was the hallway, with the living room and Anisa's room nearby, but everything was massive. The ceiling stretched sky-high, and from his tiny perspective, the overhead lights blazed like desert suns, bathing the immense hallway in light. Though the floor appeared smooth at a normal height, it now resembled a rugged moonscape riddled with pits, divots, and debris like clumps of dust accumulated from a day's travel.

Attempting to run to the door felt futile, as the vast differences in the sizes of the planks seemed like enormous trenches. The vinyl flooring, relatively clean from a normal perspective, was littered with garbage at this height. Strands of hair, shed from the various girls living here, sprawled across the landscape like massive coils of rope haphazardly crisscrossing the floor. Richie approached the door and easily slid under its massive frame due to his small stature. The door itself loomed and stretched upward, appearing more like a sheer cliff or skyscraper from his perspective.

Now on the other side, Richie spotted a small puddle on the ground, likely a single drop of water that had fallen from a cup of water. In front of him was Anisa's massive room; he could see her mountainous frame lying peacefully on the bed, having just fallen asleep for a short nap with the same man that came outside and stabbed him just a short while ago. 

The drop of water rippled slightly.

Boom.

A distant thud could be heard, though the vibrations were relatively tame compared to what would come next. Richie dreaded the idea of being caught by someone else at this height. Looking back into the hall from under the door, there was no indication of another person being nearby, though obviously, his field of view was somewhat limited.

Boom.

Another step, this time closer.

Boom.

This time the ground shook, and Richie was nearly thrown off his feet.

BOOM.

Richie fell to the floor due to the vibrations from the earthquake. Turning back to the door, he saw an absolutely massive pair of checkered Vans just outside the door, facing it. The door swung open; the sound of the hinges creaking was enough to make Richie cringe, though hearing damage was the least of his worries. Craning his neck upward, Richie could see the immense body of Rini. She stood above him, looking into the room. Normally pretty tall, she now looked incomprehensibly large. Her massive body blocked out the light, her face barely visible with how high it was. She began to speak, her voice booming and shaking Richie to his core with each word.

"Anisai, I know you wanted to take a nap, but it's your turn to help prepare dinner today."

With each word, Richie was forced to cover his ears in terror.

Anisa began to stir, her body rolling over, her voice muffled by the sound of a pillow; she was still face down.

"Just let me nap for a few more minutes, I had a long day."

Knowing that further attempts would be futile, Rini sighed to herself. The normally quiet sound continued to echo across the room. Still standing in the doorway, she took out her phone and started looking up possible recipes. She was an awful cook herself, but with a visitor in the house; she couldn't just order out. She took a step in, the massive rubber sole of her shoe blocking Richie's view of the world, the sky itself crashing down on him.

BOOM.

Rini's step had utterly shaken Richie's world. He had missed being crushed by only a few feet from his perspective. He could no longer see her face, just her legs extending into the sky and the shoes on either side of them. The smell and heat radiating from the deadly footwear, even with them still on, were overwhelming. She started to shuffle a bit as she fiddled with her phone, the sole of the Vans again coming up and hovering over Richie. The treads were worn, and bits of dirt and even crushed ants littered the underside.

The titanic shoe moved forward, still mere feet above Richie. The shoe gripped the heel of the shoe in front of him. With a pop, the foot was freed from its cotton prison, the heel aired out. The sky appeared again as Rini moved the sneaker to the left, using her other shoe to pop off the one that was just above him. Now both heels were out, the musky air was almost poisonous, and the heat immense. The heels were slightly red, surely from all the heat and pressure from walking around all day The cracks and callouses on the heel showed just how much Rini took care of herself, that is to say not at all. The slip on vans were being used as slippers currently, though Rini was a constant fidget and moved about often. 

Rini continued to scroll through her phone absentmindedly in the doorway. She was searching around for something to make for dinner, no easy task given she didn't exactly have time to run out and buy more groceries and even if she could, she simply wasn't feeling up to it having spent most of the day busy at work.

Richie was in a canyon of foot, to either side of him were the massive, well-worn Vans. The heel of the shoe crushed down under the weight of a million pounds of flesh. Rini's heels were clearly visible outside of the sneaker as she wore them as slippers. Not taking much care of her feet, each heel was rough and cracked, forming an armor-like layer over them that would make it difficult to actually get her to feel any sensation of touch. Still frozen in disbelief and shock, Richie could only watch in horror as the fleshy beast began to pull out of its humid cave. Rini lifted her huge sole out of the shoe, the bottom of her foot was a reddish-pink, contrasting with the tanned skin that dominated the rest of the Indonesian university student's body. More of her sole became visible as she slid it out, numerous cracks and wrinkles crisscrossed the sole only to be broken up by patches of rough spots and the occasional smudge of dirt. Her foot was absolutely foul, the smell radiating off of it almost as strongly as the heat. Richie had already worked up an intense sweat from being so close to the pulsating mass of flesh and skin. Five long toes finally slid out of the Vans, her guillotine-like nails unpainted with small bits of dirt at the leading edge. The space between her toes was also somewhat covered in small chunks of dirt, wherever she was, clearly she had stepped in a puddle of sorts. A light sheen of sweat covered the underside of the ball of her foot, which was bizarre, as the arch leading into her heel was bone dry and calloused.

The mountainous sole raised up and simply stood still in the air for a moment, time slowing to a crawl as she fidgeted on her phone. The deadly ped cascaded downwards towards Richie, again covering him in darkness. The heat began to rise sharply, the air itself moistening ever more by the second. Throwing up his arms in an utter panic, Richie was convinced that he was about to die under the foot of his ex's roommate.

Dean was wide awake, watching with excitement as his erection grew. The camera was slightly off angle, but he was sure it would capture Richie being crushed now. Rini noticed Dean staring at her feet, but didn’t want to drive a wedge in her friends relationship. 

BOOM

Pain shot into Richie's body, his arms which were futilely blocking the planet-sized foot simply folded over, the pressure snapping his ankles inwards and crushing him to the floor at lightning speed. The pressure was immense, though not enough to crush him into a paste. The heat was more than enough to cause discomfort, in fact, Richie was in utter hell as his skin was being burned by the scalding hot sweat, his attempts to scream being met with a face full of disgusting foot elixir by the gallon. Richie's throat was coated with the foul-smelling liquid which began to burn his mouth. Just under the ball of her foot, Richie was coated in sweat, though if he had been any further back the pressure would have likely crushed him further. The titanic flesh began to shuffle a bit, Rini was sliding her foot backward. The rough skin slid over Richie, cutting him with small pebble-sized bits of hardened skin that felt more like the bark of an old tree. The flesh continued, this time raising and allowing some light to shine under the sole, Richie could only see the streak of blood on her sole from his numerous small cuts. The Lovecraftian horror that was his ex's roommate's foot continued to slide backward as it repositioned itself over the tiny bug beneath her. The skin flew by, finally showing her massive, long toes. Her big toe dropping suddenly on the diminutive former human, who offered only a short plea for help before being silenced under the uncaring and unfeeling flesh of the toe.

The massive toe crushed into him, pressing hard into his body. The horrid smell forcing its way into Richie's now broken nose. The weight settled onto his skull, which felt like it would pop at any moment as she scrunched her toe on top of him. The tiny bug he was, Richie couldn't offer any meaningful resistance at all, he was being utterly manhandled in a way that would almost certainly see him crushed if he wasn't able to escape soon. The toe let off of him, the predatory beast giving a small merciful respite from its onslaught. The brief break proved to be crushingly short, as she again shoved her foot forward, this time lowering the ball of her foot back onto Richie. The sweat gushing out of her foot continued to burn his tiny form, which now beat a bright red as if he had sat in the sun all day. The weight on his chest and body threatened to crush him, his bones creaking and popping, ready to snap at any moment. Richie's lungs burned for air, he was going to die under this disgusting foot and no one would ever notice. Having known Rini for a few years now, she was utterly clumsy. She's left her shoes out and Richie had noticed crushed insects both within her shoes and pasted on the bottom of her foot multiple times, though she herself was both afraid of small things and so incredibly and self-destructively kind that she would never willingly harm another being, even an ant.

Richie's face was turned to the side, stars burning through the blackness that was his existence as the foot bore down on him. In an instant, he felt weightless—the foot must have been coming off of him. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust, but he could finally see what would then make his heart drop: the floor was moving away from him rapidly. The disgusting sweat and grime on the bottom of Rini's sole had adhered Richie to it the same way a piece of lint would stick. He let out a final scream and plea for help—from Rini, from his ex, from anyone—but it was no use. Richie's face was still glued to the side; he could see that her foot was approaching the massive Vans. The slip-on shoe was ripe; the miasma of sweat and humidity poured out of its opening. The heat immediately kicked up even more than before, threatening to bake Richie alive within the confines of the cotton oven. The inside of the sneaker was a dark grey, with a deep crater where her heel would sit. The corpses of crushed bugs ground to dust littered the inside of the shoe

“Please, anything but there!” he begged, but no one could hear his yells for help.

Rini was utterly unaware of his existence, too engrossed in her phone right now to care about anything else going on around her. Darkness consumed Richie as he was shoved into the foul-smelling cavern. With a thud, he was sealed inside as she used her finger to pop the heel back into place. She had finally found the recipe that she wanted to make, so she shuffled her foot back into the sneaker and began to walk off. Feeling a small piece of lint under her sole, she paid it minimal attention. She had these shoes for a few years now, they were pretty old but frankly, she didn't care enough to buy new ones.

Rini continued walking towards the kitchen, unknowingly bringing along a passenger. The bug in her shoes was slowly being crushed, the hard crusted heel slamming into the crater that was the insole repeatedly. For Richie, it felt as if he were in a compactor, repeatedly getting crushed and smashed under the uncaring sole. Soon his bones began to pop.

Crunch

With a particularly brutal slam of the heel, Rini effortlessly crushed the arm of the bug beneath her. She began prepping the kitchen, feeling a small piece of lint under her heel; she enjoyed the feeling and started to toy with it, lightly popping her heel in and out of the shoe, feeling it deform under her foot. Down below, Richie was in utter pain; it felt as if the planet itself was crushing him now, the weight and pressure intentionally rising to unacceptable levels. The sweat was oppressive and intrusive, burning Richie with its toxic stench and boiling heat. With one awkward step, Rini crushed his jaw open; it hung loosely like a door ripped off its hinges. The sweat was now pouring into Richie's open mouth, the burning liquid utterly devastating his insides. Rini tilted her foot forward and started banging on the toe section of the shoe absentmindedly, for Richie his entire world fell over and he went vertical. With the minimal strength he had, Richie tried to at least hold on to the cracks and crusted-over callouses of the heel; he knew that her toes would be the end of him. Unfortunately for Richie, Rini began to slide her heel back against the insole, gently crushing him up against it but only just enough so that he would lose his grip. With that, he fell off and descended further into the dank darkness of her Vans.

Rini felt the lint fall between her toes, she continued reading the recipe, kneading her toes into the bug under her. The massive toes began their assault, brutally crushing and grinding the former human between them. The last moments of Richie were disgustingly painful, the space between Rini's toes were the most potent of all. The noxious gas threatening to cause him to pass out, a welcome prospect for sure. To make matters worse, she had a fair amount of gunk between her toes, mostly bits of dead skin and the occasional corpse of an unlucky ant. She wiggled her toes again, feeling the tiny morsel between her gargantuan toes. For Richie, this was the end, the meaty toes slamming together, crushing him between her big and second toe. The flesh compressed on him, the actual crushing pressure not enough to pop him, what ended up doing him in was the combination of multiple wounds, third-degree burns, and toe jam being forced into each orifice. The disgusting gunk crushed in his eyes and the remains of his mouth, forcing its way into his body where it began to break him down. Rini felt the tiny bit of lint between her toes and continued to crush it into a ball, mangling the remains of the bug into an unrecognizable mess. She would continue her day, crushing Richie's remains until he was just another smear under her sole.

Dean reviewed the footage privately later that evening. He even went as far as to sneak out and look into Rini's shoes, and sure enough the flattened and pulped remains of Richie were smashed into the indentation of her insole. He snapped a quick photo to attach to the video and went back to bed to jerk off silently. The rush of adrenalin was enormous and empowering, he couldn't wait to find his next target. The video was uploaded to a porn site under an alter-ego. Already it was being praised for its extreme realism and effects, if only they knew. Dean went to bed, imagining all the people he could get crushed unknowingly by the women around him. He was practically untouchable.